


dazed and confused (from the day I met you)

by flowersforflorence



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Robby Keene is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22332814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforflorence/pseuds/flowersforflorence
Summary: A study of Robby studying Miguel.AKA: emotional repression with a side of pyromania
Relationships: Miguel Diaz (Cobra Kai)/Robby Keene
Comments: 8
Kudos: 99





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of this fic was to write the events of Cobra Kai from Robby’s perspective. As you can see, I got a little carried away. Inspired by the song Dazed & Confused by Ruel which is an absolute banger and 100% just Robby and Miguel in a nutshell.  
> Here’s the [link](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Nel_hT0ZQHA) if you want to give it a listen.  
> It’s been a while since I last watched the show, so if you notice any errors or inconsistencies, please let me know!  
> Also props to musicnmore22 for giving me a hand editing this 💕

_You came in swinging like Apollo  
  
I'll be feelin' it tomorrow  
  
No, I ain't seein' straight, hyperventilate  
  
Knees begin to wobble  
  
You cut my brakes and hit the throttle  
  
I couldn't stop it if I wanted  
  
Just your silhouette, makes me break a sweat  
  
I'm in trouble_

  


Robby’s heart, once made of flesh and blood, had become a ticking time bomb; fractured and rusted and perpetually a second away from incineration. His veins had been replaced with wires, coiled tightly around his heart. The bitter copper filled his mouth, choking him.

The first time Robby saw Miguel, the resentment tasted like smoke curled around his tongue, thick and bitter and lingering for hours. For years his world had been a blur of clenched teeth, tired eyes and bruised knuckles, the swirling chaos of life coating his skin. A symphony of blacks and blues billowed and bled, staining him. Looking at the boy hugging his dad, the boy who had taken from him what he had never truly owned, his aching heart was rent further apart.

-

When he next saw Miguel his face was contorted with rage, words of poison dripping from his lips. The soft lines of his body had been twisted into an angry cacophony of sharp edges. There was something about him that Robby couldn’t tear his eyes away from. _This_ was the boy that made Sam’s eyes light up, that pulled small unbidden smiles from her lips.  
Seeing him up close knocked something loose in Robby, the world around him swallowed up by the roaring in his ears.

In the midst of it all, Robby became aware of the flickering warmth of satisfaction in his stomach. Those burning flames of excitement at being able to see through the cracks in Miguel’s perfection, to catch a glimpse of who he truly was.  
Miguel’s hands were slender and calloused, like those of an artist or musician. When they collided with his chest Robby was surprised by the fire behind them, the throbbing heat that spread from his fingertips and lit Robby up inside. The ticking of his heart grew louder.

-

Under the eyes of the cheering crowd Miguel’s confident persona clung to his skin, so much so that you couldn’t tell where the snake ended and the boy began. His movements were fluid and the thinly concealed anger rippled in waves across his body, a controlled facade belied only by the twitching of his fingers.  
The weight of his gaze burnt more than the glancing pain of his blows, those fierce eyes knocking the breath from Robby.

As he looked down at the boy lying at his feet, Robby couldn’t help but reach out towards him. He couldn’t say why he did. All he knew was that there was something inside that ached to understand those wide eyes. He felt as if touching Miguel would unlock his secrets, that if maybe Robby held him tight and listened closely, he’d be able to hear the mechanisms inside. As Miguel grabbed his arm, the white flare of pain washed out all other senses.

-

In the bright light of the stage, Miguel cut a fierce figure. He stood tall, his eyes burning with light, and for a second Robby could see the flames flickering across his skin, a supernova in the dark night sky. Anger swelled in Robby’s gut, and he wanted to stifle those flames, take from Miguel what he had taken from him.

Robby couldn’t hear himself breathe over the echoing ticks of his heart. Or maybe he’d just forgotten how to breathe. Gazing into the blinding light that was Miguel, he couldn’t really tell. 

-

Miguel looked surprisingly small on the doorstep of the La Russo’s house. Maybe it was just the darkness, but it seemed as if that angry flame that perpetually haunted him had dimmed, ever so slightly

As Miguel’s fingers brushed against his, Robby felt something flicker. There was pain in those eyes, sorrow and loneliness drowning in a guise of empty arrogance. Miguel’s hands were warm against his skin and with a jolt Robby was reminded that this boy was just as painfully human as he was. 

“We’re not all assholes.” 

Robby was entranced by the stubborn set of his jaw, the tense shoulders, the way in which Miguel really believed he was telling the truth. Those solemn eyes bored into his, the intensity of the gaze weighing on him until he couldn’t help but look away.

-

In the low light of the rink Miguel looked softer, more vulnerable, than Robby had ever seen him. He introduced them to Tory with an easy smile, catching Robby off his guard. It was the first time he’d directed that smile in Robby’s direction, the first time he’d treated Robby as anything more than an enemy, and it knocked the air from his lungs. Robby felt caught, suspended in time, with nothing to do but stare at the terrifying emptiness that lay ahead. It was all raw and _unknown_ and he felt like he was drowning just to think of it. 

He didn’t know what was wrong with him.

Miguel kissed Tory like it was breathing, her pale fingers trailing down his cheekbone, and Robby couldn’t look away. Couldn’t tear his eyes away from that mouth that kissed and smiled so gently, that did so much more than spit angry words and taunts.  
He clenched his fists to hide the shaking of his hands.

-

“I’m sorry” Miguel murmured.  
All of that anger and resentment and _bitterness_ that had made a home in his chest since he first laid eyes on Miguel exploded. That burning storm of emotions whose names evaded his tongue had grown and grown until his flesh could not contain it anymore. Miguel didn’t just get to apologise. He didn’t get to just bat those pretty lashes and expect everything else to fall away.  
As he felt the warm press of Miguel’s body against his, Robby’s mind exploded into a chorus of _awayawayaway_. The flames burned white hot in his chest, enveloping his senses and burning away everything but that writhing anger.

He watched Miguel fall, saw his body broken on the steps, and something snapped inside. That surging maelstrom slipped away, leaving nothing but cold numbness.


	2. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A study of Robby studying Miguel.  
> Aka: emotional repression with a side of pyromania

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the song Dazed & Confused by Ruel which is an absolute banger and 100% just Robby and Miguel in a nutshell.  
> Here’s the [link](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Nel_hT0ZQHA) if you want to give it a listen.  
> It’s been a while since I last watched the show, so if you notice any errors or inconsistencies, please let me know!  
> Also props to musicnmore22 for giving me a hand editing this 💕💕

The problem with explosions is that they didn’t fix anything. They just left dust and ashes and _desolation_. Robby used to be a bomb. He’d always been flammable, on the brink of going off. But now, where all that had once been, was just emptiness. A dark dark hole that still echoed the sound of that explosion. 

God it ached. He’d heard of phantom pains, of amputees that still felt their aching limbs even when they weren’t there anymore. But did that apply to hearts? To souls? To whatever had been incinerated in his chest, just one more piece of collateral? Robby didn’t know, but what he did know was that something was broken, and there was no way of undoing what had been done. No way of putting this whole fucking mess back together.

-

The days were husks of what they had once been; ebbing and drifting and slipping through his fingers. Robby felt as if his head was no longer tethered to his body, it had come unmoored and drifted as it pleased. Miguel looked so small in his hospital bed. 

They said he wasn’t going to die, but he still visited Robby in his dreams every night, those soft eyes filled with sorrow. He would reach out and touch Robby, but the warmth that had burned within him in life would be gone. His icy fingers would trail across Robby’s cheek as silver tears traced down his face.  
Every morning Robby woke cold and aching, trembling at the thought of what he’d done. So he came here. He spent his afternoons at Miguel’s bedside, watching the boy’s chest rise and fall, trying to convince his hands to stop shaking. When it got especially bad, he would reach out to feel the warmth of Miguel’s skin, to hesitantly wrap his fingers around that slender wrist just to feel the flutter of his pulse.

-

The first time Robby saw Miguel after all _that_ , he forgot how to breathe. He had spent weeks sitting by this boy’s bedside, had grown accustomed to the warmth of his skin, knew the rhythm of his pulse off by heart. Yet seeing him awake and _laughing_ of all things hit Robby like a brick wall, stealing his breath and gravity.  
Miguel turned to look at him, and instead of the anger, the accusation, the hatred that Robby had expected to see there, there was something else. Something unreadable and unfamiliar, something that sunk right into his scorched and broken body.

For the first time in weeks, his heart beat again.

-

_I’m sorry._

_I never meant to hurt you._

_I don’t think I could hurt you even if I wanted anymore._

_I felt like I was dying without you._

_I think I might be broken._

Robby was drowning in unspoken words. Words that dragged him down and filled his lungs, tainting each breath. He longed to set them free, to grasp Miguel’s warm hand in his and whisper those damning sentences into the fractured air. He wanted to lean in close, to hold Miguel tight, to understand this strange feeling coiled in his chest, wrapped tightly around his heart. It felt like hunger, aching and tender, craving something beyond his understanding.

-

Miguel stepped closer, studying Robby’s face.  
“They fight in my name, answering violence with more violence.”  
He pressed closer until his hand was brushing against Robby’s hip, the tremble of his fingers belying a hidden hesitancy.  
“You understand though,” he whispered. “I see it in your eyes. You understand the true weight of violence, the pain it causes.”  
Robby’s stomach fell and he wanted to press closer to Miguel’s warmth, to chase away the chill of the shadows draped heavily over his shoulders.

-

The first time Miguel kissed him, Robby expected it to taste of ozone and electricity. He had expected Miguel’s touch to burn him, to reignite his charred remains. To his surprise, the kiss was like the first rain after a drought, cool and sweet. Even more surprising was Robby’s realisation that he had _thought_ about kissing Miguel before.  
Yet even in his subconscious, Miguel was always painted as the avenging angel, a mythical being carved of marble and starlight.  
The sharp angles of his face seemed softer under Robby’s fingers though, and he could drown in the welcoming warmth of his body. Miguel’s lips were chapped and he kissed with a gentle clumsiness, fingers carving lines of fire across Robby’s skin.  
When Miguel pressed Robby back against the wall, the firm heat of his palm creeping up the side of his shirt, Robby’s lungs fluttered in his chest. Miguel’s thumb pressed firmly against Robby’s hip, and the touch was like an anchor, pulling his broken pieces back together.

Maybe there was no way to undo what had been done. But he could heal, the sharp edges of his shattered body knitting back together.


End file.
